First Tuesday

Agh,” he gasped. “oh, ugh, ugh.”
He was naked and she fully dressed, her hand a blur as she knelt in front of him and pumped his hard cock.
“Oh, God,” he reached out to hold on to something, to steady himself against the explosion that was building within. But the dining table was just out of reach. He looked down, but dared not grab her head. So he just lifted his eyes to heaven and let out a long low moan.
She kept on pumping his cock, her eyes fixed on the task at hand. Keeping a steady rhythm, regardless of the effect it was having on him. She looked down the length of his cock, as if staring down the barrel of a gun.
“No,” he grunted. “No. Oh, no!”
Her lips curled in a tight smile as she tightened her grip and increased her speed.
“No!” he knew she had him.
She looked up, her hand not slacking the pace one iota as his balls tightened and his hips started to jerk.
“Yes!” he threw his head back as his cock jerked in her hand.
Splat!
Hot cum scalded her cheek
Splat! Splat!
More followed in her hair and on her forehead.
Splat. Splat. Splat.
All across her face and, splat, one more into her open mouth.
She kept on pumping. Working his cock for all she was worth. But he was spent, just giving one long moan as his cock started to soften.
She dropped his cock. Glancing in disgust at the cum on her hand as she scrunched up her face and spat out his cum. One, two, three, hard spits.
He caught his breath and looked down at her. He knew he was in trouble now, the afterglow of orgasm quickly washed away by the adrenaline of fear.
“Baby wipes,” she snapped.
Oh, shit, he thought, how could I forget, as he turned and got a packet from the table. He hurried back, fumbling to pull one from the packet as he bent down to offer it to her.
She snatched it from his hand and started to clean herself. He just stood there quietly giving her one after another as she wiped his cum from her skin. When she was finished she just sat there for a moment gathering herself.
“So I thought we’d agreed on ten minutes,” she looked up at him.
“Yes, Miss,” he never felt more naked than when he stood in front of her.
“You did remember we’d agreed on ten minuets?” she threw the dirty baby wipes onto the floor.
“Yes, Miss,” he repeated, knowing that he hadn’t lasted anywhere near that time.
She held up the stopwatch with the display turned towards him. “And how long did you wait before you took your pleasure?”
He looked at the time displayed. “Four minutes and fifty seven seconds,” he read.
“Four minutes and fifty seven seconds,” she shook her head. “That’s not even half way.”
“No, Miss,” his voice was barely a whisper.
“I think you’re being a little bit selfish,” she stood. “A little bit ungrateful.”
“Yes, Miss,” he kept his eyes downcast.
“So,” she smoothed down her skirt. “What are we to do?”
“Do? Miss,” he looked up.
“About your selfish behavior.”
“My behavior, Miss?”
“Yes,” she looked him in the eye. “Your inappropriate emission of ejaculate.”
“I’m sorry, Miss,” was all he could say. But he knew it wasn’t enough.
“If I had known that you were not going to wait the full ten minutes, I would have aimed your penis away from my face.”
“Your face, Miss,” his eyes focused on a stray strand of cum that still decorated her hair.
“But as you selfishly took your own pleasure without any regard for me, I got covered in your… your… emanations.” She looked down at her blouse, “You even got it on my clothes.”
“Sorry, Miss,” he looked down, not daring to mention the cum that was still in her hair.
She turned and walked over to a cupboard leaving him standing naked in the middle of the room. Half opening the door she reached inside and took something out. He couldn’t see what it was and she held her hand behind her back as she walked back to him.
“Am I not good to you?” she asked.
“Good, Miss?”
“Do I not treat you fairly and with consideration?”
“Yes, Miss.”
“Do I not let you live in my beautiful home?”
“Yes, Miss.”
“Do I not let you worship my pussy every night?”
“Yes, Miss.”
“And in return on the first Tuesday of each month I unlock your cage and give you a handjob,” she said.
“Yes, Miss.”
“And all that I ask from you is that you wait ten minutes before you take your pleasure.”
“Yes, Miss.”
She looked him in the eye, “Now is ten minutes too much to ask? Am I being unreasonable?”
“Yes, um, I mean no, Miss.”
She looked at him for a long moment. He tried to meet her gaze but he couldn’t do it. But even when he dropped his eyes to the floor he could still feel her eyes burn into him. For the longest time she just stood there looking at him. Her gaze searing him to his soul.
“So I think you had better bend over now,” she turned to face the dinning table, its polished surface clear of any objects.
He pulled himself together. “Um, yes, Miss.” He turned to face the table but made no move towards it.
“Come now,” she teased. “No need to be shy.”
Slowly he walked over and stood in front of the table. He turned to look at her. She just smiled. He knew what to do. Pressing his hips against the edge of the table he bent over the polished table top. He knew just how polished it was as it was part of his duties to polish it every day. Stretching as far as he could he was just barely able to hook his fingertips on the far side of the table.
“That’s a good boy,” she walked behind him. “Now up on your tipi-toes so your bum is in the air.”
He pushed up his bottom, standing on his toes as she had instructed.
“Now,” she brought her hand up high. “This is going to hurt you a lot more than it’s going to hurt me.” She always made the same joke before paddling her boy.
And paddle him she did. Raising the paddle up high and bringing it down on his buttocks again and again. He winced at the first blow. Moaned at the second. By the fifth stroke he was crying.
His world closed in for him. There was just the pain of the paddle and hanging on to the edge of the table for him. But she was really working up a sweat. Raising her had as high as she could and then putting her whole body behind it as she swung at his buttocks. Making his bottom red in seconds, but hitting all the harder as his flesh seemed to glow.
Suddenly she stopped. “You know something?” It was a rhetorical question. “I’ve completely forgotten to count.”
She stepped closer to him and made him wince as she placed her bare hand on his reddened buttock. “Have you been counting?”
He just let out a low moan in response. She caressed both cheeks, sending tremors through his body.
“I guess that you were too busy enjoying yourself,” she glanced between his legs and saw that he was hard again. “You really do enjoy this. Don’t you?”
He just moaned.
“But still, I know something else you really enjoy,” she had an evil twinkle in her eye. Taking a tube of lube she squirted a blob onto her finger and reached down between his butt cheeks.
“Oh,” he lifted his head from the table.
“Yes,” she smiled as she found his anus. Slowly she spread the lube around, then placed her fingertip against the entrance.
“Oh, no,” he half moaned.
“Oh, yes,” her eyes sparkled.
“Ugh,” he grunted as she pushed her finger inside.
“Oh, yes indeed,” she felt her finger sink in to the second knuckle.
“Please,” he knew that she was not going to stop there
“Oh, yes. You always like this part,” she pushed her finger in all the way.
“Ah,” his body shuddered, his anus spasming against her finger.
She waited a few moments till he settled down. Then slowly pulled her finger out, almost all the way.
“Oooooh,” he sighed. Then “Agh,” as she pushed it right back in.
“That’s my boy,” she cooed. “Take it all in.”
He just let out a long moan.
She squirted another dollop of lube onto her second finger, rubbing it between finger and thumb while her first finger remained embedded within him.
He knew what was coming, knew that he should just relax and take it. Knew that fighting it would only make it hurt. But he couldn’t help himself. He tensed up. Fighting her finger. Trying to push it out.
“Now, now,” she whispered. “You need to relax.”
Slap!
He jerked as she brought her free hand down on his red butt cheek.
Slap! Slap! Slap! She hit him again and again. His cock jerking with each hit until she slid in her second finger and he let out a long, low guttural moan.
“So are you going to take two orgasms this month?” She continued slapping his buttocks with her free hand. “Huh? Are you?” Slap, slap. And pushed both fingers deep into him.
He couldn’t help but moan.
“Are you enjoying this?” she wiggled her fingers.
“Agh…”
“Do you want me to stop?” she pulled out a little then pushed her fingers in deeper, hooking her fingers upward, searching for that sensitive spot.
He shuddered.
She slapped his reddened buttock once more. “Well do you?”
“No,” he gasped.
“No, what?” she slapped him again.
“No, mistress,” he closed his eyes tightly.
“No, don’t stop slapping me, is that what you mean?” she slapped him again.
“Agh!”
“Or do you mean, no, don’t stop fucking me with your fingers, miss?” she pulled her fingers a little.
“Ugh.”
She slapped again. “Or do you mean both?” she pushed her fingers in deep.
“Yes,” he lifted his head from the table, arching his back and pushing against her fingers.
She started slapping him in earnest. And he started to cum once more.
Squirt, squirt, squirt. Slap! Squirt, squirt. Slap! Squirt. Slap! Squirt. Slap!
Slap! Slap!
Squirt.
Slap, slap, slap!
His cock jerking until he was spent.
She paused to catch her breath.
He continued to hold on to the edge of the table, stretching himself as far as he could. Holding on with his fingertips as he came back down to earth.
“So,” she got her breathing under control. “Did you just make a mess on the floor?”
He took a few moments but finally he found his voice. “Yes, Miss,” he said, his face now as red as his bottom.
She slowly pulled her fingers out of his anus. His cock giving one last jerk as it started to soften.
She glanced between his legs. “We’d better get your cage back on while it’s soft, don’t you think?” She picked up the chastity device.
“Um, yes, Miss,” he said.
She bent down and with practised fingers slipped the little tube over his penis and snapped the holding rings closed around the base of his penis and scrotum. Taking the key out of the padlock before clicking it closed.
“Now, where was I?” she stood and picked up the paddle again.
“I didn’t count, Miss,” he replied, tears staining his face.
“Well then,” she raised her hand up high.”We’ll just have to start at the beginning once again. Won’t we.”
She brought the paddle down hard on his already red buttocks. It was going to be a long night. But then the first Tuesday of each month was always a long night.